


The Prince and the Assassin

by Boomchick



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: AU oneshot, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24555952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boomchick/pseuds/Boomchick
Summary: Oneshot prompt fill from TumblrCloud, formerly of the royal guard, is now a member of Avalanche. Charged with a dangerous mission, he sneaks back into the castle he defected from to murder Prince Sephrioth before he can do any more harm. But sometimes even being prepared for anything isn't enough.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774831
Comments: 2
Kudos: 103





	The Prince and the Assassin

**Author's Note:**

> First of a series of prompts written on Tumblr for those who are supporting the BLM movement. This one was requested by https://glitter-it-up-unicorns.tumblr.com/ who requested Sephiroth/Cloud, with them as an assassin and a prince!
> 
> If you've donated, protested, or otherwise supported black lives, you can come and make a request too! https://boomchickfanfiction.tumblr.com/

It was supposed to be simple. But then, it was always SUPPOSED to be simple. On paper it LOOKED simple. At least, each of the plans individually did. Taken all together, however, plans A -> W had been enough to make Cloud’s head spin.

He’d been smart enough not to say that though. He’d read all of them, committed at least most of the information to memory, and decided quickly after entering the castle that he’d be going with plan X– Wing it.

After all, it was all fluid now. He’d been chosen, because he’d worked in the castle once. But that didn’t mean he knew where all the guards would be. He had a general idea of where the prince’s room would be, but hard to say exactly where in that tower he would be.

As he’d tried to impress upon the others multiple times, castles were BIG.

He scaled the outer wall with the help of the grappling hook, then tossed it back down to Tifa’s waiting arms, giving her a wave. He was in the same uniform Avalanche had found him in, with a stolen helmet shoved in place over his distinctive hair. With any luck they’d look right over him.

Not that he’d ever been particularly lucky.

He shouldn’t have worried. If there was one thing he remembered from his time in the castle, it was that the guards would do ANYTHING to avoid having to go up or down another goddamn flight of stairs. So as soon as he made it to the stairway he was shockingly, blissfully alone. Which was good, because he had to yank the helmet off to catch his breath.

“Stairs.” He growled with utter hatred.

The tower was abandoned. That didn’t seem right, but Cloud couldn’t say whether it was normal or not. He’d been a member of the royal guard but… But he didn’t remember ever really…. Really being here before?

His headache came back, and he shook it off, taking a steadying breath. Calm, he reminded himself. Plan A. We’re still on plan A.

He drew his sword, walking down the hallway as quiet as he could. There was no doubt in his mind that the prince’s room would be at the top of the hall. He could already see the grand doorway.

Stealth would be gone the moment he touched the door. So he didn’t bother. He kicked it in, sword flashing ahead of him as he burst into the room.

“Ah.” Said a smooth, low voice. Gods, that voice… “Come to end me, I take it?”

He was beautiful. As beautiful as he’d been across the room, dressed in finery, silver hair shining under his golden crown. The adopted prince of king Shinra. A blood-stained knight who’d won a place among royalty through the suffering of others.

And who appeared to be currently shackled to the bed.

Cloud’s mind skimmed through all 23 of Biggs’s plans, and his own battle plans and training, he came up completely blank.

“Um.” Said Cloud.

“You’re in luck.” Prince Sephiroth commented mildly, an eyebrow lifted. “Any other day I’d have skewered you before you finished slinking down the hall. You should have brought a sack to cover your boots, by the way. It softens the sound. Most assassins do.”

“Uh…”

“Don’t suppose I could have your name before you finish your job?” The prince suggested, an eyebrow arched. He was perfection. His whole face, his chained body, his hands bound above his head and his ankles shackled to the bedposts.

“I– Cloud. Are you–”

He took a step forward, lowering his sword. That was a mistake. Yeah…

The bound prince moved in a vicious, elegant twist. wrenched his body against the shackles to lash out with his bound hands, grabbing hold of Cloud’s hands and sword both, halfway off the bed he was bound to, supported only by his abdominal muscles.

Cloud yelped, but didn’t drop the sword. Clung on, twisting, trying to get away from that vicious grip and that beautiful, calm face.

“First time?” Sephiroth asked mildly, twisting again, dragging Cloud further off balance. Cloud staggered. Fell. Straight into the enemy’s bed, still struggling for control of his sword.

“Wait,” Cloud gasped, struggling for control as the silver prince’s grip started to strain against his, trying to turn his blade on him.

“I think for my life I should not.” Sephiroth laughed.

“Are you a prisoner?” Cloud asked, pressing the flat of one hand to the blade to keep it out of his flesh.

“Maybe I simply enjoy being bound.”

“If you don’t want to be here, maybe–Agh!”

“Do try to focus, you’re making this too easy.”

“I don’t–Want to kill you!”

“You sound very convinced you still could.”

Cloud curled his legs in, struggling against Sephiroth’s might. Then he kicked off of him, driving himself off the bed. He lost his grip on the sword, leaving the prince armed but trapped, and himself free but weaponless.

“Interesting.” Sephiroth commented.

“Give me that!” Cloud said, annoyance spiking through him harder than fear or hatred.

“You are very funny.” Sephiroth said, twisting the sword neatly, bracing it between his knees and starting to saw at the ropes on his hands with the precious blade.

Cloud stared, flabbergasted. Then he grit his teeth. Clenched his jaw. When he moved forward it wasn’t as an uncertain, delicate guard. It was as a member of Avalanche. A fighter. A survivor. He grabbed his blade in one hand and Sephiroth’s shirt in the other, shoving him down and pinning him there, throwing his blade across the room.

“…Huh.” Sephiroth said, eyes on the wall where the sword had clattered to the ground.

“Two choices.” Cloud panted, holding him down. “One, I kill you. You don’t want that. I don’t want that.”

“You’re a very bad assassin.” Sephiroth commented.

“Second choice,” Cloud barreled on, ignoring how it made Sephiroth laugh. “You come with me as MY prisoner.”

“What?” The prince’s eyes flashed, bright and green and strange.

“No worse off than you are here, right?” Cloud asked, gesturing to the empty room. The shackles. Realizing his mistake in releasing one hand too late. But Sephiroth didn’t thrash or throw him again. He was watching him.

“Surely your contract did not stipulate ‘dead or alive.’” Sephiroth pointed out.

“No,” Cloud admitted, tilting his head. “But it also assumed you were a pampered shithead parasite sucking off the king’s bloodshed. Are you?”

“I’m not even in line to the throne.” Sephiroth said flatly. “You people realize that, right? The title 'prince’ is purely a formality to ensure that I cannot leave and that my victories are attributed to the Shinra family.”

“Your victories are killing people.” Cloud said, shaking Sephiroth again. “So you’re not staying here as HIS weapon. Your pick. I slit your throat, or you leave with me.”

“You’re very pretty up close.” Sephiroth said, his eyes wandering over Cloud’s face. “Did you know that, Cloud?”

“For the love of–”

“I’ll come.” Sephiroth said.

His hands lifted, and Cloud realized in alarm that he’d been untying them the whole time they talked. But he only realized that as the hands that could have closed on his throat instead patted his fists in the prince’s shirt.

“I’ll need help getting the shackles off.” He commented, mild and easygoing as if they were discussing dinner. “Perhaps you should fill me in on who, exactly, I’ll now be the prisoner of?”

Barret was furious. But Cloud couldn’t stop thinking about how Sephiroth had looked at him, and wondering if he should let Sephiroth know that he thought he was very pretty too….

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and for the request!  
> Please donate to https://atlsolidarity.org/ if you can to support my local BLM movement!


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